


and they said speak now

by singsongsung



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, featuring a heirloom bag, inspired by tswift's folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singsongsung/pseuds/singsongsung
Summary: The first time he ever saw Alexis Rose, her hat - oversized, floppy-brimmed, adorned with feathers - had flown off her head, carried down the street by the wind.
Relationships: Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose
Comments: 14
Kudos: 68





	and they said speak now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earnmysong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earnmysong/gifts).



> Written for the prompt: _when no one is around, my dear / you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes / spinnin' in my highest heels, love / shinin' just for you_ , though this kind of veers from a direct interpretation of these "mirrorball" lyrics (oops).
> 
> Title, perhaps obviously, from another Taylor Swift song, "Speak Now."

The first time he ever saw Alexis Rose, her hat - oversized, floppy-brimmed, adorned with feathers - had flown off her head, carried down the street by the wind. To snatch it out of the air and return it to her, to play small-town hero and save the day for a big-city girl, would’ve been an awfully good meet-cute, but Ted’s feet were glued to the sidewalk, and all he could do was watch her.

She chased her hat, moving at an impressive pace in her high heels, taking a large step forward and rising onto the toes of one foot, her other leg extended behind her, to reclaim it from the breeze. As she found her balance again, she turned around, and Ted saw her face: pretty eyes, glossed-up lips, cheeks a faint pink. She was intimidatingly beautiful, but as he looked at her looking at her hat, he watched her expression shift into something scolding, something disapproving, like she expected better from her accessories than for them to blow away.

It was almost too charming for him to bear, the combination of how gorgeous she was and that silly, sweet look on her face. He worked up the courage to ask her out two days later, at the café, his heart racing as she tipped her head and played with her hair. When she spit her meadow harvest smoothie back into the cup and mouthed _oh, my god_ at him, he started grinning so hard that it took him nearly a full hour to stop.

He was so nervous on that first date with Alexis, eager to impress her, overwhelmed by the scent of her perfume and the way she tucked a perfect curl of hair back behind her ear. Even on the way back to Schitt’s Creek, when she hooked her phone up to his car’s bluetooth and played him a bunch of Beyoncé songs, dancing in the passenger seat as she sang ( _flossin’ on that, flawless; this diamond, flawless_ ), his whole body felt like it had become a habitat for butterflies. She smiled at him, streetlights dancing over her features, and Ted had a stupid thought, a thought that, once he dropped her back at the motel with an awkward handshake and a heartfelt kiss on her cheek, had him Googling jewellery shops while sitting in his parked car.

Still: those nerves were nothing compared to these nerves, wearing a suit that Alexis would’ve undoubtedly encouraged him to have tailored, navigating the back rooms of the Weylin, squinting at the map Twyla drew on his palm with a pen after Stevie smuggled him in.

He finds Alexis in a room filled with flowers and sunlight, standing in front of a full-length mirror. She's not alone: Moira's seated on a chaise lounge and David is fiddling with his cuff links by the window. Ted’s aware of them, but his vision has tunneled to include only Alexis, devastatingly beautiful in her delicately detailed wedding gown, tiara settled into her hair, her loveliness made all the more painful by the fact that none of it is for him.

When she catches sight of him in the mirror, she whirls around, both hands pressing into the base of her throat as if to stop a gasp. “ _What?_ ” she says, lower than a whisper. Beneath false lashes and sparkling shadow, her eyes are wet.

“Hi,” Ted says, lamely.

She strides toward him and he steels himself; she must know why he’s here, and she’d be well within her rights to slap him - but instead, her hands reach for his, and Ted aches at the slow twining of their fingers. Alexis’ gaze is on his hands, like she’s trying to confirm that he’s real.

“Lex,” he says, and her eyes fly up to meet his. There’s anger there, in her eyes, right at the surface, and disbelief, and - something else that Ted won’t let himself name, not yet. “I shouldn’t have left.”

David’s arms are moving rapidly in his peripheral vision as Alexis lifts a hand and smacks the back of it against his chest. “Of course you should’ve. You probably saved, like… all the turtles - ” Her breath catches, and she gives his hand, the one that’s still wrapped up with hers, a forceful shake. “Ted, what are you _doing_ here?”

“I…” He’s keenly aware, suddenly, of how sharply Moira’s eyes are pinned on him. “I never expected you to wait for me,” he says, because it’s the truth, “but that didn’t… stop me from waiting for you.”

She shakes her head. Her fingers slide between the buttons on his shirt; it’s one way she used to pull him in for a kiss.

“And I thought… it’s not too late, not _yet_ ,” he tells her softly, searching her eyes, which are so full now that he can’t identify any one emotion. He exhales slowly. “Don’t marry this guy, Alexis.”

“I - ” Impossibly, her grip on his hand grows even tighter; Ted decides to take it as a good sign that she has yet to let go. “You - ” She looks over her shoulder, toward her brother, her voice rising in pitch as she says, “There are four hundred guests out there.”

David looks at his mother and then at Ted. His gaze is heavy and scrutinizing, but Ted holds it, trying to convey _I love your sister; I’ll love her forever; I swear I will_ with his eyes.

“If you don’t want to get married, Alexis,” David finally says. “Don’t get married.”

She turns around, leaving her hand tangled with Ted’s, her elbow at an awkward angle. He resists the temptation to brush the knuckles of his other hand against her bare back. Her voice is quiet, fragile and tremulous, as she says, to her mother, “Dad paid for all the catering… ”

“Well, that money’s gone either way,” David points out.

“Mom?” Alexis asks in a whisper.

Moira doesn’t say anything. Instead, she reaches beneath the chaise lounge and pulls out a brown, crocodile-print bag, which she holds up with a raise of her eyebrow.

Alexis’ breath leaves her lungs in a single burst. When she turns back to Ted, tears have made subtle tracks through her impeccable makeup. He touches her cheek, tracing those damp streaks, and her hand lifts, in turn, to his cheek, her thumb running along his bottom lip. Her eyes travel, slowly, over his face.

She drops her hand, and his heart lurches, but she stays where she is. Her hand hovers in the air between them now, her fingers shaking, ostentatious diamond glittering in the sun.

Gently, he pulls the ring off her finger, working it past her knuckle. He should set it somewhere - it’s probably prohibitively expensive - but it falls right out of his grasp, onto the floor.

Alexis takes the bag her mother’s offered her, and slides her unadorned hand into his.

In the hallway, they start to run.

fin.


End file.
